


Due Process

by marimoes



Series: Promptober 2019 [12]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers to Enemies, Law is a 20 year old dumbass who needs to get knocked down a peg, M/M, Marine driven Drake is the one to do it, Pre-Canon, mention of a one night stand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-14 00:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21007043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: A Cheshire grin creeps across his face while he lifts his head, revealing his eyes. A color that even through the snow Drake can see clear as day.A gold he knows all too well.





	Due Process

**Author's Note:**

> Day 12: Limit

Frigid, the wind blows across the open field before Drake. Snow mixes with ice and slices open any uncovered skin. It’s touch causing red to flood every inch that shows. 

Red that lies not only on his body but in his sight; a deep red seeded in anger.

It stirs in his stomach like a hornet’s nest shaken and set loose upon the world. All while he looks him down. _Him. I found you goddamnit._Drake’s thinks, his words caught like poison in his mouth, burning every moment he holds them there. 

But there he stands. 

Arms crossed in that _stupid_ yellow jacket emblazoned with his insignia. A smile with taunting eyes, so very similar to the look Law now wears on his face. 

The young pirate Drake had been ordered to track down was finally in front of him. After pouring over the area, he’s found him. Law is nowhere near cornered though, no, he stands in defiance. 

Readily facing down Drake’s crew with only a small group hovered behind him. Their faces too covered by hats; except for a rather worried looking polar bear mink. 

Drake has heard tales of the havoc unleashed on the North Blue for years, but only recently had the culprit been identified. His powers something only spoken of in whispers over tables at night, after one too many drinks have been poured. 

“Surgeon of Death, eh? So, this is what you decided to do with those powers of yours?” Drake calls out, his words nearly muffled by the harsh winds, but his low tone still carries to Law’s ears. 

Confirmation of the fact given by the shift in Law’s smile. 

A Cheshire grin creeps across his face while he lifts his head, revealing his eyes. A color that even through the snow Drake can see clear as day. 

A gold he knows all too well. 

* * *

The liquor is warm going down his throat. Chased by a honey beer recommended to him by the bartender, a damn good one at that, and for the first time that week he feels good. Not just _good_, no, he’s on top of the world. 

The thought of the pirate that keeps evading him tweaks in his mind, an annoying pinch of remembrance, one he pushes back down along with the next pint. Leaving it to sit instead in his chest, burning. A dull flame of irritation that he prays alcohol extinguishes. 

Someone slides onto the barstool next to him, thin legs sweeping around the side before tucking around the rungs of the chair. Drake’s eyes travel up his body, slower than he should it seems, because he hears a snap. The stranger’s hand hovers before Drake’s face, a smirk hanging on his face. 

“Like what you see?” He says, words like honey, and Drake wants a taste. 

Focusing further, he sees that the stranger has eyes that match his tone, and the fabric of his pants gets a little tighter. A fact he hopes the man next to him doesn’t notice. Luckily he doesn’t, focus now drawn to the bar, tilting his head at the bartender to signal his order. 

“I can’t say I’ve seen you around here, you new?” He says, giving a wink to the bartender as she hands him his drink, making her giggle before she leaves, “I don’t think I’d forget a face like yours.” 

_He’s smooth_. Drake thinks, and his head buzzes from the liquor. Usually this would set an alarm off, begging Drake to dig deeper, but not tonight. Tonight, he’s curious. Heart a steady thrum in his chest, watching the stranger’s hands move against the bar. His fingers dance, pushing a coin across his knuckles in one fluid motion before clicking it against the worn wood counter. 

The bartender takes the money with a quick wink, and the man refocuses on Drake. His gaze is heavy, direct, something Drake doesn’t see often. 

“Been here for about a week, haven’t had the time to really have any down time though.” Drake admits, and it isn’t a lie. They’ve been scouring the island all week for the acclaimed “Surgeon of Death” that keeps causing trouble. A budding threat in the eyes of the military, that he’s been commanded to cut it down at the source. 

When they don’t even have an image to go off of, only witness accounts of strange happenings, it’s tough. 

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” And while Drake tries to focus on the stranger’s eyes, he instead finds the desire to hover on his lips, “Law.” 

“Excuse me?” Drake says, eyes flitting back up to his. Curiosity lingers within them, gleaming in the low light. Again, the signal chimes in Drake’s head for him to push away, but it’s snuffed out all at once with the touch of a hand on his arm. 

“I’m Law,” Law says with the sweet scent of alcohol on his breath, “You?” 

The contact of his hand on Drake’s skin is like fire. Sensation warm and uncontrolled as it creeps up his arm. It nearly makes Drake shudder, but he holds it. Unwilling to lose this game of chicken before it even begins. 

“Drake.” Drake says, pauses for a moment, and realizes he has high ground here. High ground that might score him some points. “_Captain_Drake.” 

Law’s mouth twists into an impressed smile, and raises his glass, “To beginnings.” 

Drake smiles back, chest nearly bursting at the seams, and raises his to clink against Law’s. 

“To beginnings.” 

* * *

It’s bitter now, the taste in Drake’s mouth, as realization washes over him. That the pirate he’s been hunting fruitlessly was in his hands, groaning and biting last night, but he was there. Held under Drake not twenty-four hours prior, and he missed it. 

‘Missed it’ might be wrong, considering the amount of warning his mind tried to give him, but if Drake admits anything greater he might lose his mind. 

“Back for round two, Drake-ya?” Law calls across the field, bouncing his nodachi against his shoulder. There is no worry held in his frame, and Drake could spit at how badly he wants to shove his face into the ground. 

“You knew who I was, and yet-” The words die in Drake’s mouth as the sound of his crew shuffling behind him pulls his attention. _They can’t know what I’ve done. I’ll be discharged, and that would be the least of my worries._ “Why are you here? You think you can take on a full marine crew with just four people?” 

Last night flashes in Drake’s mind. The sound of moaning mixed with huffs of breath laced with curses, blood running red against their mouths, and the snap of wood beneath them. It’s all so clear now in the day, and it makes his stomach turn. 

Law flips kikoku forward in his hand, letting it settle across his body in front of his face. Drake has heard accounts of how Law fights, but they all seem impossible. Horrified tales of floating limbs and leaving traces of people dismembered, still alive. Almost sounds like the—no—it couldn’t be. 

“Do you wield the ope ope no mi? How did you get your hands on that—how did anyone?” Drake calls out, but Law doesn’t answer, he just continues to focus on the nodachi in front of his eyes. “Answer me, Trafalgar!” 

He unsheathes it, slow, and as the blade shows it’s face to the world Law’s tongue dances across it. The solid, metallic taste heavy on his tongue and he shudders with excitement. It’s something else their intel has picked up about Law: he loves to pick a fight. 

“I’ve been waiting, you know.” Law says behind the blade, and Drake’s breathing hitches, causing a sharp exhale to paint the air grey in front of him. “No one has been able to show me a good time, but you might be different.” 

Swinging kikoku down, it sings, and Law laughs. A throaty chuckle and Drake winces. He feels it, the rage building in his chest, and before he can decide he’s already moving. 

Feet hitting the frigid ground, he charges forward and Law quickly does the same. Their crews hold behind, and they don’t care, no, their eyes are focused on the other. A game. A conquest. So much is held between the two that needs to be settled, and each man thinks himself to be the victor. 

Their blades meet in the middle with a clash, a loud reverberating ring, that makes the hair stand up on Law’s neck. He tsks jumping back, and from his left-hand blue conjures. Before he can speak, Drake is flying backwards against his will. Pushed back and dumped onto the ground, he tries to focus, but only finds the taunt of gold beneath Law’s hat. 

Law flips kikoku back to his side, still controlling Room with his other hand, and he rocks on his heels. Cocky, over sure, and excited waiting for Drake to stand. Just so he can knock him down again. Just like he does to all of them. 

Drake pushes himself to his feet, body groaning in the cold, and takes a deep breath to focus. If he’s going to beat Law, he knows what he has to do. 

Before Law, Drake disappears. Gone with a blink of an eye, and before he can speak a hand is on his throat. Hard and unrelenting, it curls around his neck before he’s thrown to the ground. Covered in ice, refusing to give even an inch, and pain shoots up Law’s spine leaving him to gasp out. 

Drake is on top of him, pinning him to the ground. A sight he would’ve been happy to see last night, and was, but now it’s different. Now the hungry look in Drake’s eyes are for something far worse. Law’s widen in panic, brain trying to catch up on how he moved so quickly. 

“You’re not the only one with power on these seas, Trafalgar. It would do you well to remember that.” Drake growls, and as Law swallows, he can feel it against his hand. “Anything to s-”

He’s cut off by the blue once more filling his vision, and he braces himself to be thrown again. Law’s smirk returns, and with a flick of his hand he’s gone. Thin air remaining in his grasp, Drake looks up to find Law again standing amidst his crew. Blood trickles down his neck, but he’s free. 

Watching Law again hold his nodachi in front of him, Drake feels his body tug forward. It a painful pull, and it’s only after he blinks does he realize it’s only his head moving. His body is left, knelt on the ground behind him in the snow. Flying, his head moves against the snow into Law’s hand, thin fingers curling under his chin. 

The sensation a little too familiar.

Drake can’t speak. All words are lost in the panic in his head, and Law can see it. Gently, he leans forward into Drake’s ear, warm breath tickling the skin and hums. 

“Did you really think you could get one up on me, Drake-ya? You already fucked me once, it won’t happen again.” Law croons, kissing the side of his face, and before Drake can respond he’s again thrown backwards. 

Head realigning with his shoulders, he feels his stomach turn. Of dizziness? Disgust? Anger? Drake isn’t sure, but he knows one thing: he’s taking this man down. 

“I’m telling you to run now. I won’t hold back on your men, they mean nothing to me.” Law calls out and kikoku sings swinging through the air, blue traced with her. 

Before Drake can stand, he hears screaming behind him. His crew is cut, each at their waists, toppled onto the ground into two pieces. Fear creating a near fog behind him in the cold, and Drake curses. _How the fuck does he work?_

“And I do?” Drake bites back without thinking, and Law laughs, “I’ll have your head, Trafalgar.”

“I can’t deny you were fun, would be a shame to get rid of you. Reconsider things, Drake-ya. Join me.” Law says and Drake knows he’s being genuine, “Otherwise, you leave me no choice.” 

Drake doesn’t answer, only charges forward. Axe dragging against the ground, carving into the icy earth before coming up to swing against Law. Their weapons again meet with a small spark, but Drake doesn’t relent. 

Over and over he swings his axe, anger fueling his actions, and Law starts to lose ground. The blue of his hand flickers, but it’s weak, and Drake realizes it’s limited. _He’s running out of power._ Swinging again, Law stumbles backwards, breath leaving the air heavy between them. 

Reaching forward, Drake again gets hold of Law’s neck and throws him downward. Pinning him against the ground once more, and this time,_ this time _Drake knows he can’t escape. It makes him laugh, something he wasn’t prepared for, but he does all the same. 

“To beginnings, huh?” Law sputters out, and Drake holds him tighter to the ground, teeth bared. 

“The beginning is your end, Trafalgar.” Drake replies, leaning in to kiss him once, blood again tart on their lips. It’s bittersweet and makes his heart tug, looking back into those golden eyes. If only things were different. 

Maybe in another life.

Drake leans back, fist clenched and shaking in the cold, but before he can bring it down on Law, he’s hit. Body thrown harshly to the side, and as he hits the ground, he remembers: Law has a crew. The two men of his crew scoop him off the ground, and the mink pulls him the rest of the way up, lugging him over his shoulder. 

The mink runs, leaving Law to bob on his shoulder, but still their eyes stay met. An intense connection running between them, and Law flips up a weak middle finger at Drake, smirk light on his lips. Drake grits his teeth, already raising up to chase after him, but hears cries behind him. 

“You’re not free, Trafalgar. I’ll find you.” Drake calls out, backing up a cautious step toward his still dismembered crew, “You’ll never make it out there.” 

Law doesn’t respond to the taunt, only falls against the mink’s shoulder, eyes closed. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't noticed by now I'm unabashedly on the drakelaw train, so, join me
> 
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle  
Twitter: @__moes__


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